


Four Times Kirk Wasn’t Embarrassed and the One Time He Was

by musedepandora



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 4 + 1, M/M, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-02
Updated: 2010-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musedepandora/pseuds/musedepandora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Kirk should've been embarrassed but wasn't, and the one time he finally was but perhaps shouldn't have been. Spock/Kirk. Mention Spock/Uhura.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chekov

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to try my hand on this little writing exercise. It also was an opportunity for my first attempt at Star Trek: 2009 and Kirk/Spock.

-

Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to various persons and corporations that are not me or associated with me. This piece of fanfiction is written with the admiration and respect for the original work. I claim no ownership of Star Trek creations. No profit is made from this material, now or in the future.

 

**-**

It was nearly impossible to embarrass James T. Kirk. Situations that would make a Vulcan blush, he took in stride. In fact, if asked, he’d have a difficult time remembering the last occasion where he was honest-to-god embarrassed.

But if one were to ask any member of his crew, it would be easy to compile a list of incidents where he really should’ve been.

**-**

**1\. Chekov**

Lieutenant Chekov had a great deal of respect for Captain Kirk. He exemplified many things that Chekov wished he could be: suave, articulate, ambitious, and most of all, well-respected. It wasn’t that Chekov didn’t have his own brand of charm and esteem from his fellow officers. It was just that, even though he tested as a genius and was well on his way to his second doctorate at the age of seventeen, whenever he spoke up, he felt that most members of the bridge crew barely restrained themselves from ruffling his hair. Perhaps it was his baby-face or his heavy accent or even his frustrating lisp, but whatever it was, he knew that he’d never be able to command the easy respect that Captain Kirk managed every time he stepped on the bridge.

Put simply, Captain Kirk was Lieutenant Chekov’s idol.

And he’d never forget the day his captain negotiated their release from a hostile alien . . . naked.

Captain Kirk was just that damn good.

“Excuse me?” The captain only sounded slightly surprised by the request from the Resfan on screen. Chekov was already blushing.

“You heard us, Captain!” The alien smiled, or perhaps it was a snarl. It was difficult to tell with aliens. Either way, the gesture revealed three rows of sharp teeth across the view screen. “You have shown no respect to our superior position or our customs. Now we demand a sign of submission! Then we might consider your request for mercy.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But . . . naked, _really_?”

The bridge shook with the sound of the Resfan captain’s growl. It was not a happy growl. Chekov began reciting pi in his head to avoid the urge to cower.

Captain Kirk only grinned. “Just making sure we understand each other better this time around, Your Grace. I’m more than happy to fulfill your request. But I’m sure my second-in-command has about a dozen Starfleet regulations he’s dying to quote to me. How ‘bout this: I’ll sign off, let him throw the book at me, put my birthday suit on and call ya right back. How’s that sound?”

The Resfan captain looked confused and aggressive. Still, Chekov had no doubt the captain knew what he was doing.

“Good? Good! Kirk out.” The captain swiveled around in his chair to face the science station. Commander Spock managed to look both bored and concerned. Even Vulcans couldn’t help emoting a little around the man. “So, Mr. Spock, how many regulations am I about to break this time?”

“Technically, captain, you would be breaking none, as the situation seems to offer you very little alternative.”

“Aww, where’s the fun in that?”

“However, if one were not to grant you allowances for the situation –.”

“Now there’s the Spock I love.”

“Captain, there is no justification for insults.”

“Right. Go on.”

“As I was saying,” Spock almost sighed, “if one were not to grant you allowances for the situation, you would be breaking no less than 7 regulations concerning behavior unbefitting an officer, 2 relating to the creation of a hostile work environment and/or sexual harassment, and 1 intergalactic law regarding uncivilized methods of torture.”

The captain pulled off his shirt and threw it in Commander Spock’s general direction. “Torture? Honestly? You’re going there?”

Spock eyed the fallen garment as if concerned it might be rabid.

“Captain, if I may.” Lieutenant Uhura was using her stern voice.

“You may.” The captain was beginning to work on his belt buckle. Chekov quickly turned around and studied his navigation console as if it were the most fascinating thing in the galaxy.

“I believe this extremely ill-advised, sir. There is not enough data available on Resfan culture for me to properly predict whether or not any part of your anatomy might cause offense.”

Chekov heard boots hit the deck, followed shortly by the fluttering of fabric. A belt buckle made a clink on the floor. “I think you and Mr. Spock get kicks out of tag-teaming me.”

“No, sir.” Uhura was definitely lying.

“Certainly not, captain.” Spock was harder to tell.

“Right. So, anyone who has any recording devices, please put them away now. I’m serious, yeoman; yes, I see you. Anyone uncomfortable with the sight of human, male anatomy, look away right now.”

Suddenly, the entire bridge went still and silent in anticipation. Even Chekov was considering the merits of peeking. He snuck a glance a Sulu. The pilot smiled and shrugged but didn’t look like he was tempted at all. Chekov wished he had Sulu’s grace under fire.

“You’re staring, Spock. Like what you see?”

“I am doing no such thing, captain. According to Starfleet Regulation 145, subsection E, ‘In incidents where the captain plans to take actions that could be construed as an act of war-.”

Only Captain Kirk ever had the nerve to interrupt Spock.” - the first officer must be prepared to offer informed testimony to Starfleet and/or The United Federation of Planets.’ Please stop looking so shocked that I can quote regulations, too. It’s insulting, Mr. Spock. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”

Chekov was impressed. From Spock’s silence, he thought maybe the commander was, as well.

“Captain, I have the Resfan captain demanding your attention now or he’ll send us back to the primordial mires of our creation.”

“Lieutenant?”

“His words, not mine, sir.”

“Okay then. If Mr. Spock’s done ogling his superior officer, let’s get this show on the road. Open a connection, lieutenant.” In the moment it took for the connection to spread on-screen, Chekov peeked.

There in the middle of the bridge, Captain Kirk stood stark naked, feet shoulder-width apart, fists on hips, and chin held high. He looked like a picture of Peter the Great Chekov had seen in a history book as a child. Only naked.

“Greetings and Soft Suns, Your Grace. Now if we could continue our conversation about your magnificent ship and, in particular, those totally awesome laser guns you have trained on my Enterprise . . .”

Lieutenant Chekov was liabel to become embarrassed if he sneezed too loudly on duty. The captain looked in his element even with his intimates swinging in the open air for all to see.  And, at the end of the day, everyone respected him for it.

Chekov wished he was a little more like Captain Kirk.

 


	2. Uhura

Lieutenant Uhura was pretty sure Captain Kirk was some kind of idiot savant.

She had never seen the man reading the material, but he had definitely quoted Aristotle and Surak to her in passing. In their original ancient Greek and Vulcan. She suspected that he hadn’t graduated secondary school, but he was always top of his class at the Academy. She could count on him not to look at a debriefing she prepares on the alien culture of the week, but somehow he always ended up charming them all with his devil-may-care attitude.

He never did anything right. But somehow, as if out of sheer will of personality, everyone agreed that his way was better. It was damn frustrating and, more than once, should have been deeply embarrassing.

“Captain,” she whispered to him from the corner of her mouth. This culture believed it was the height of rudeness to open one’s mouth, even to speak, in mixed company. The accepted manner of eating was to hide the mouth behind a sleeve and apologize after every bite. It was practically mandatory to be embarrassed that you even had a mouth.

Of course, that didn’t apply to Captain James T. Kirk.

“Yes, lieutenant?” He smiled at the princess to his side. She giggled like a schoolgirl. His smile grew exponentially. Sitting across the table from them both, Spock looked away in his version of dignified, Vulcan disgust. Uhura really wished her captain could keep it in his pants.

“What you’re eating…”

“The salad?”

“Isn’t a salad, sir.”

He looked confused. “Then what is it?”

She illustrated by wiping her hands with the leaves and tossing them to the floor, as per proper etiquette. Everyone else at the table was busy doing the exact same thing. Except for Kirk. For a moment, he looked even more confused. She almost thought he was embarrassed. But a moment later, the grin was back.

He took another bite of the ‘salad’ and called out to the king across the table. “Your napkins are really terrific, Your Majesty! On Earth, we pay good credits for meals like this.”

Within five minutes, everyone was eating his or her ‘napkin.’  Even Spock.

She should’ve known better; Kirk was never embarrassed. And there was no such thing as proper etiquette where he was concerned. The man was a force; a fool, too, but a force nonetheless.

 


	3. Sulu

Captain Kirk’s first impression on Lieutenant Sulu was of a competent, commanding personality that was more than capable of taking care of himself and those under his command. It helped that, shortly after first meeting, Kirk saved his life. Yes, the man didn’t do things the way Sulu would have, but he was a fierce protector of his ship and her crew.

Captain Kirk knew what he was doing.

No one else might, but he always did. Sulu had faith in his commanding officer and never doubted that he deserved the position despite his age and lack of experience. But that faith was sorely tested when he had to rescue the man from a houseplant in a bar on Risa.

They were both sitting on stools at the window. They expected a few more of the bridge crew to join them shortly.

“Hey, Sulu, you like plants, right?” The captain was letting the orchid-like plant on the windowsill behind them wrap a light purple tendril along his pinky finger.

“I do dabble in botany, sir.”

“You know what this one is?”

“No, sir. I don’t.” He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at admitting that. In actuality, he more than dabbled in botany. It was his lifeblood. If he didn’t love flying so much, he would’ve applied himself to becoming the best botanist in the Federation. Sulu never applied himself halfway. The fact that he couldn’t place this one, frail plant was enough to drive him to distraction. It was only made worse by the fact that the first question his captain asked him about the subject, he couldn’t answer.

“Aw, don’t worry about it, Sulu.” Sometimes it seemed that the captain could read minds. He knew his crew and knew what they needed to hear. “I’m sure you can name a million plants from hundreds of worlds. Did I ever tell you I can’t breathe through my left nostril? It’s true.  Colds murder me. Ask Bones. Hey look, it’s curious about me.”

True, the plant was steadily wrapping another tendril along the captain’s wrist.

“Huh, it’s surprisingly strong.”

Sulu began to suspect the plant of malicious intent. “Sir, perhaps . . .”

“I think it’s _tasting_ me. It kinda tickles.”

“I’m not sure that’s safe, sir.”

“Seriously, Sulu, this is Risa. The worst thing that can happen here is a sunburn. Even Spock said so.”

Sulu really didn’t think it his place to contradict a superior officer and instead studied the plant. “Actually, I believe I may have seen a plant like this before.” Kirk made a listening noise but seemed to be quickly losing interest in the plant. His attention focused on the view screen across the bar that showed a recent sports game on Andoria. Or perhaps it was focused on the table that looked like it was finally going to open up in a shadowy corner of the room. He let the plant continue to entangle itself around his wrist and even petted it absently with his free hand.

“I think it was in a book I considered buying in the store next door,” Sulu said.

“Didn’t impress you enough to buy it, I see.”

“Actually, it was rather expensive.” How embarrassing to have to admit that.

Kirk grinned at him crookedly. “Yeah, none of us do this for the credits. Still, it’d be nice if it felt like Starfleet even tried, huh?” He picked up the plant and looked around them. “You know, I’m going to go claim us that table. You think you can go next door and find out what this plant is? I think I might want to send one home. Mom’s birthday, you understand. I’ll save you a seat.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good man. See you soon.”

Sulu didn’t have a difficult time finding the right book but he did have a hard time finding the particular entry.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Commander Spock admiring the store’s selection of collectable manuscripts. It’d been a while since he saw Uhura with him. He wondered if they broke it off. As a friend, he hoped not. As a gambling man, he had been running a ship-wide pool on it since it became common knowledge. Chekov had been the only one that had bet they’d make it over two years. Uhura just liked laughing too much. And Spock just didn’t.

“Lieutenant,” Spock acknowledged without turning. Caught staring. Dammit. How embarrassing. He returned to his book.

“Commander.” Finally, he found the entry he needed. The plant in the picture was much larger than the specimen in the pot. It made some sense that he hadn’t immediately recognized it. Still, he should’ve. His self-castigation came to a premature stop by what the entry actually said. “Holy shit!”

Spock was suddenly at his side. Apparently, it only took him a moment to read the entry over his shoulder. “Fascinating. Though I do not understand your alarm.”

“Captain Kirk is cuddling with one of these next door.”

They were both out the door three seconds later.

In the bar, he could see that the captain had secured the table in the shadowy corner. He looked unconcerned as the plant continued to writhe around his wrist and hand. “Hey, you found Spock! Great. Take a seat before they go; this place is getting packed.”

“Captain, please disentangle yourself from that plant.”

“Jealous, Mr. Spock?”

They didn’t have time for their brand of passive-aggressive flirting. Sulu interrupted when it looked like the commander was about to be sidetracked. “Sir, that plant is eating you!”

“What?”

“The lieutenant is correct, captain.” Spock sat at Kirk’s side and attempted to remove the plant with or without his captain’s permission. “This species of plant excretes an acid that numbs and dissolves living protein for digestion. Do you have any feeling in the hand?”

“Now that you mention it, it has been tingling for a few minutes. It’s _eating_ me? Ouch, that hurts! Don’t pull!”

“Apologies, sir, but I must remove these tendrils before it consumes the entirety of your wrist’s epidermis.”

“No kidding.” Spock pulled. Kirk squealed. “Stop it!”

“Sirs,” Sulu tried to intervene before they made a scene. And the way Kirk was beginning to breathe heavily was disconcerting.  “I have an idea.”

“I welcome it,” Spock said.

“Shoot,” Kirk said, leaning against the table as nonchalantly as possible for a man whose hand is in the process of being consumed by a houseplant.

Without explaining, Sulu reached out and snapped the delicate stem of the plant from its base. The plant’s tendrils disengaged and began curling up on themselves. Kirk’s hand looked crimson and angry, as if he had a very serious case of rope-burn.

“Whoa, Sulu, that was brutal.” Kirk, the needs-must man, almost seemed sad.

“But effective.” Spock, the pacifist, seemed pleased.

“Hey, Spock,” Kirk grinned, “I was almost killed by a houseplant! And you said that _even I_ couldn’t get in trouble on Risa.”

“It merely began to consume your hand, captain.”

“Merely? Can’t I do anything to impress you?”

“I hardly think this the impetus.”

The captain scoffed. Sulu began to feel slightly like a third-wheel. Luckily, Doctor McCoy and Scotty soon arrived. The captain held his hand up for them all to see. “Look! I was nearly eaten alive by a houseplant! Don’t worry; Sulu saved me.”

“Good god, man!” the doctor exclaimed. “Is there nowhere you don’t stick that hand?”

Most starship captains would be embarrassed by nearly letting a Risian houseplant eat their right hand. Not Captain Kirk. No, he told everyone he saw that day about it. Somehow, it earned him free drinks and the interest of no less than two Andorian women and one Risian man. At least, by the end, Sulu was sure his captain had forgotten how he had failed to recognize the plant at first. No, what the captain remembered was that Sulu saved him from the Potted Plant of Doom.

Perhaps Captain Kirk didn’t always know what he was doing, but he had a sense of humor and wasn’t afraid to let his crew see him as a real person. He was never embarrassed by that. Sulu admired that about him.


	4. McCoy

Doctor McCoy was certain that James Kirk was going to be the death of him.

Not in the course of a space battle or some strange alien plague. No, no doubt, he would die by conversation. The things that flew out of that man’s mouth! He fully expected that one day, his heart would simply stop and no amount of liquor or medical technology would persuade it to start again. There was a limit and the rate at which Jim was approaching it left little doubt that McCoy would not live to be an old man. Some days, it seemed like Jim did it on purpose.

Today was one of those days.

McCoy was minding his own business. Yet he must have done something to offend God. He couldn’t think what, because he was busy doing his damnedest to be polite and professional to the local, walking refrigerator and that merited him to sainthood if anything did.

“Look, commander. I need to contact your father and get those records. Either you get me the connection and we handle this without all the bureaucracy or I go through Uhura and both you and I end up spending half a shift filling out duplicate forms.”

“You have all relevant records of my medical history, doctor.”

“What you consider relevant and what I consider relevant are not likely to be the same thing.”

“That is highly likely.”

“So, you agree. I need to see those records to have any idea of what is important.”

“No, doctor.” Spock had the gall to raise that blasted eyebrow at him. “In fact, quite the opposite. I believe it highly likely that our views of relevance on this matter would differ simply by the fact that our views are often diametrically opposed to one another.”

“Now look here, I know you Vulcans are anal-retentive about everything, especially privacy, but this is a matter of your health! And I am your CMO, dammit!”

The door to sickbay opened and Jim sauntered in as if he owned the place. Considering how often he visited, he certainly rented it often enough. He waved at a passing nurse but soon focused his attention on the two of them.

“Hey, Spock. Bones! Quick question.”

“Not now, Jim.”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” McCoy answered.

“No, we are finished,” Spock said over him.

“Now wait one blasted minute! I am nowhere near done with you!”

“It is kind of important, Bones,” Jim said, rocking on his heels.

“Are you bleeding?”

“No.”

“Are you hearing voices?”

“No.”

“Then you can wait.” McCoy turned back to Spock with finger extended and brain quickly gathering together every combination of green-blooded and pointy-eared insult that he could imagine.

“It’s just I think I might be pregnant.”

McCoy’s brain crashed.

It took nearly a minute before he could find two brain cells to rub together.

Even Spock looked like he momentary lost the power of speech.

“What. Did. You. DO!”

Of course, Jim didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed.

“What? No congratulations?” He gave them both that shit-eating grin that had started a dozen bar brawls. “Okay, look, so there was this girl planet-side. Well, I thought it was a girl. Not that that hasn’t happened before. She/he/it had this thing on her arm. Pricked me with it. Said I was going to have her baby and then walked away. Craziest thing. Didn’t even buy me a drink.”

The man had no shame. And McCoy was sure as hell not paid enough for this shit.

 


	5. Spock

Spock could apply very few labels to Captain James Tiberius Kirk with any certainty. Once a personality trait was recognized and firmly logged within his memory, it was very likely to be contradicted at the next opportunity. He had made the mistake early on in their acquaintance of disregarding the man as the stereotypical, arrogant degenerate. Then the man went and saved Earth. That was only the first example in a long line of frustrating, and yet fascinating, contradictions.

On one point, Spock was certain: Captain Kirk was an enigma. Spock had always had a weakness for puzzles. With those two facts in mind, his near obsession with his commanding officer was almost logical.

“Damn, it’s hot.” Kirk jiggled his knee restlessly underneath the table. He then paused to straighten his pant leg. The entire sequence inevitably repeated. Since moving their biweekly chess games to personal quarters, Kirk had developed a habit of psychomotor agitation. Yet, outside this particular environment, he never displayed such a nervous habit.

Perplexing.

Spock attempted to form a hypothesis.

“I think you turn up the heat on purpose before I arrive,” Kirk said with a lopsided grin. “Trying to throw me off my game? I hope not because, you know, that’d be cheating.” He made a very ill-advised move with his rook. No doubt, there was a strategy to it. Spock’s mind was far too linear to glean it. Still, he felt the compulsion to do so.

“Quite the opposite, captain.”

“Jim.”

“In fact, I lower the temperature in my quarters by 8 degrees centigrade when anticipating your arrival.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Jim.”

Spock made his own move, pulling his bishop to the second level of the 3-D chessboard. He was now attempting the Gibashane maneuver. Due to Kirk’s unpredictability, he’d already had to abandon four other such strategies. He had little hope of this one following its natural course. The captain seemed intent on forcing Spock to improvise.

“It feels like it’s a million degrees in here.”

“Hyperbole. It is only 31 degrees centigrade.”

“Like I said.” Kirk seemed to move a pawn in line of Spock’s bishop with flippancy. “Wait. You normally have it at 39 in here?”

“Yes, captain.” Spock suspected that Kirk was setting the board into an elaborate trap. He delayed his next move in the effort of understanding it. Of course, it was also possible that the trick was in only the appearance of an elaborate deception. At times, it was exhausting to attempt to think like Kirk.

“It’s Jim, remember. So, do you freeze your ass off normally on the rest of the ship?” The man laughed aloud for some inexplicable reason. “Don’t even try acting like you don’t know what I mean. I know you better than that.”

“No. Though it is uncomfortable. Starfleet issues thermal undergarments for species native to warmer climates.” Despite his best efforts, Spock could not glean any logic to Kirk’s board configuration. He pressed his fingers together before him in order to reinforce his emotional control over a tide of annoyance that never made it to his face.

“Right. Right. I knew that.”

Spock wondered why the man asked in the first place, if he did in fact know that information. However, he had found that often humans stored more information that could be accessed through recognition than through ready recall. This seemed quite inefficient and inferior to Vulcan memory but during their year as a pair, Nyota had taught him not to say things like that aloud. She informed him that such statements only inhibited communication. As that was her field of specialty, he did not doubt this.

“So I’ve been thinking.” Kirk’s agitation became more pronounced. He resettled his weight in his chair three times, cleared his throat, and scratched his nose. “We’re good friends, right?”

Spock was unsure how to reply to such a statement and so, instead, waited for Kirk to continue.

“I mean, sometimes you even call me Jim now without me telling you. I like those times.”

“Indeed.” That was a most useful word, as it meant nothing at all. Kirk pulled on his ear in agitation. He seemed genuinely uncomfortable. Spock decided to be generous. “Would you care for something to drink, Jim?”

Kirk grinned. “Oh, that’d be fantastic. Yeah. Thanks.” Spock got up and poured the man a glass of water. Kirk received it with eager hands. His face was unusually flushed. Perhaps the temperature was still too high for his comfort.

Spock adjusted the thermostat down another two degrees.

A rush of cool air entered the room through the air vents at the ceiling. Spock suppressed a shiver.

“Aw, man, you don’t have to do that. These are your quarters.”

Spock returned to his seat at the chessboard, across from Kirk. He made his move. “You were attempting a particular line of conversation?”

“Oh yeah.” Kirk cleared his throat. He gave his glass of water a half-turn, and then corrected it. The incessant fidgeting was beginning to concern Spock. In the past, their conversations tended to calm the captain in most instances but the man was now exhibiting clear signs of distress. “So we’ve been friends for awhile. And I’ve been thinking about that. And how that’s been affecting our command interactions.”

Now Spock thought that he perhaps understood the increased fidgeting during their chess games and Kirk’s inability to look him in the eye with this conversation. “I had not thought it had adversely affected our professional relationship. However, I understand if you wish to terminate our personal interactions.”

“Wait, what?” Kirk looked alarmed and sat up straight in his chair. “That’s not what I meant! I was thinking about how great our friendship has been for our professional relationship. Sometimes, it’s like you know what I’m thinking. We take teamwork to a new level. Despite our age, I have no doubt that we’re the best command team in the fleet right now.”

“I see.” In actuality, Spock did not precisely understand but when used as a turn of phrase, it was not technically a lie.

“So I was thinking about that, right, and umm,” Kirk cleared his throat again, “how that’s really one of the highlights of being on the Enterprise. For me. Working with you like that, I mean. And the friendship part, of course. Well, especially. I’d hate to lose that. It’d murder me. It’s that important. I don’t want that to change. But then I realized that I do. Because, as great as we are right now, I think – I know- we could be even better. Amazing really.  And I don’t mean just professionally. Actually, I really don’t mean professionally. Because, professionally, let’s admit it: we’re the best. So I’m thinking behind the scenes. And stuff. ” He finally took in fresh air. Spock was impressed that the entirety of that speech was made in a single breath. Kirk hazarded a glance at his eyes. “Know what I mean?”

Spock, most certainly, did not.

“You have no idea, do you?” Kirk looked crestfallen.

Spock could only answer honestly, though he had no desire to disappoint his friend further. “No, I do not.”

Kirk put his face in his hands. “Man, this is so embarrassing,” he muttered into his palms. “Look,” he pulled his hands away from his face, “I’m just going to spit it out and if this goes horribly wrong, can we agree to pretend this conversation never happened?”

“If you wish, captain.”

“No,” Kirk said sharply, “it’s really important you call me Jim right now.”

“If you wish, Jim.”

“OK, good. Because I really need you to know that however way this conversation goes, this has nothing to do with our working relationship.” Kirk glanced at Spock’s face again. “Even so, I’m still going to be breaking at least two regulations by even having this conversation with you.”

“This would not be the first time,” Spock remarked dryly. Kirk laughed. Only in the privacy of his own mind would Spock admit that that had been his intention. Yet, he was sure Kirk knew it was without telling.

“Yeah, we tend to do things our own way, huh?” Kirk looked like he was considering moving a chess piece but rethought it and refocused on Spock’s face. “I was hoping we could apply that to our friendship too.” Kirk continued to stare at Spock with an intensity in his eyes that sent Spock’s mind rushing to identify it. “I really, _really_ like you, Spock.”

Finally, he understood.

Spock was not an idiot; he simply was not human. At times, behavior that might have been obvious to a human took more intensive deduction on his part. He wondered how obvious this had been. He would ask Nyota at a later point. Considering how subtle Kirk tended to be about anything, Spock suspected that Nyota would laugh at him.

It took him several moments to decide how he wished to respond to this revelation.

“You aren’t saying anything, Spock.” Kirk laughed nervously.

“I am attempting to formulate a proper reply.”

“But you know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

Kirk’s smile seemed to waver a little. He glanced at the door, as if considering retreat, before squaring his shoulders and looking back at Spock. During this, Spock had not once removed his eyes from Kirk.

“Well, at least you aren’t strangling me, so it’s going a bit better than I feared.”

Spock ignored that statement. He finally decided on how he would approach the situation. “You are only breaking one regulation with that confession, Jim.”

“Oh?” Kirk appeared genuinely confused.

“Expressing non-platonic interest in a subordinate could be seen as sexual harassment.”

Kirk flinched. “Yeah. And offering to conduct a romantic relationship while working together in direct line of command makes it two regulations.”

“Technically, Jim, you have not extended such an offer.”

“That’s what I-“

“But I am,” Spock said over Kirk’s words. The man’s jaw clicked shut with an audible snap. “So, we are both equally guilty of this infraction. I thought this best as, once rank is ignored, I do prefer to begin my romantic relationships based on equality.”

“Right,” Kirk muttered, eyes slightly bewildered but an undignified smile spreading on his face. “Wait, Spock, did you just-?”

Suddenly, the klaxons burst into their conversation announcing Red Alert. Both instantly assumed their command personas as Chekov’s voice rang through the ship’s intercom, summoning the Captain and First Officer to the bridge. Spock acknowledged the call for both of them on their way out his door. It was only as they were striding, in-step, to the lift that the captain seemed to regain his train of thought.

“Thanks, ensign,” he said to the man that had held the lift open for them. The man saluted before heading for his own station. The doors closed on them as they sped to the bridge. He turned his full attention on Spock. The commander only watched the man from the edge of his vision. “Just so we are on the same page here,” Kirk said, folding his arms and looking very pleased with himself, “we’re carrying on an illicit, romantic relationship together now, right?”

Spock resisted the urge to sigh. It was an urge he only struggled with in this man’s presence. “Yes, Jim.”

Jim grinned as the lift doors opened to the chaos of the bridge. “Excellent.”

Immediately, Spock had the opportunity to witness the captain’s ease in the heat of battle. Consoles exploded. An ensign’s sleeve caught fire. They lost the engine. However, Captain Kirk remained cool and composed as he recovered the situation and again saved the day. It appeared that propositioning his First Officer was more daunting than nearly losing the warp core in a ferocious altercation with Klingon pirates.

Fascinating.


End file.
